Confliction
by GrayFlux
Summary: Following Harry Flynn's story.   If you're just looking for some slash, then I suppose you can skip to chapter 12, and/or chapter 17.
1. Chapter 1

They skirted the rooftops below a full moon, security patrolling far below. Harry leaped ahead of Nate, catching the adjacent ledge with minimal noise and keeping up a forward flux of momentum as he raced ahead. Nate smirked as he kicked it up a notch, dashing silently until he passed the cursing Englishman. Determined, Harry sprinted, and gained but a few meters behind his successor before he toppled over a beam, consequently creating such a raucous as to attract the attention of the sentries below.

Nate's accelerated gait came to an abrupt halt as he turned and dragged the sprawling man beyond the searching luminosity of a sentry's flash-light. The two thieves laid flat on the serrated surface of the tiled rooftop, breathless with adrenaline.

'Okay,' Nate exclaimed between gasps for air, 'No more fooling around, let's go'.

Harry flashed a sarcastic grin, 'Yes father.'

Despite Harry's affected nonchalance, he was still dwelling on how Nate and Chloe had exchanged glances earlier in the sewers. It was almost as if they were sharing a familiarity, and he could not fathom why it still bothered him.

All this shit was meant to be gone; he had spent way too long dehumanizing himself to suddenly have these feelings return.

Nate ran ahead of him, seemingly heedless of Harry's afflictions.

_But indifferent facades have always been my forte, my shield; a front that even Nate's constant emotional awareness could never see through… Until I dropped my shield, and that was when it all crumbled. Have I still not learned my lesson? _

'There, we need to get up into that skylight,' Harry forced his thoughts back onto their contract.

He lunged over the buildings threshold, bridging the gap and grasping the distant gutter before pulling himself onto its surface.

Nate subsequently vaulted, catching the gutter that broke from its fitting. He kept hold as it slowly bent and angled downwards, Harry leapt forward to catch him as Nate's purchase fell from its placement.

A sentry yelped with surprise at the shattering tile, he looked up to see nothing. The sentry returned to his idleness, dismissing the occurrence as aging masonry.

Harry's pulse was more intense than even Nate's, the pure dread he felt as he saw Nate hanging fifty feet above the solid ground, that same fear he'd faced once before.

'You've put on weight mate,' he jested.

'Shit,' Nate listened for the tell-tale exclamations before the sounding of an alarm, which never came. 'I owe you one.'

'No more doughnuts for you.' Harry continued ahead.

They dropped down into the building and rounded a corner. Three uniformed men with flashlights skulked ahead. The thieves took cover below a floor elevation.

'Great,' Nate fretted. 'Now what?'

'Time to tip the odds,' Harry reached into his backpack, 'Back in our favor,' He revealed two pistols.

'Guns?' That same look of disgust flashed through Nate's eyes, just another reminder of the past. 'Are you insane?' He shoved at them dismissively.

'Relax Gandhi, they're tranquilizer guns,' He laughed, veiling the pit in his stomach. 'Totally non-lethal. Your conscience will remain unscathed.' He offered one to Nate.

Nate fixed his eyes skeptically on the gun, looking for indications of it being what Harry proposed. Finally, he submitted, 'Oh, well, good idea,' He accepted the offering.

Harry excited and unconsciously used the priority of hushed voice as an excuse to edge closer to Nate. His brow furrowed in a fleeting remembrance of self-hatred.

'Okay, little bit of advice. These things have lousy range so we still have to get in close.' He noticed Nate had trailed off, and he wondered if their current proximity had triggered a bout of reminiscence in Nate. 'You okay with that…?'

Nate sobered, smirked, 'I know how to shoot a gun genius'. He readied his aim, propping himself just high enough to train his gun on the closest sentry.

Harry followed suit, he repentantly glanced sideways at Nate as he took aim. _Does he remember, or rather, does he choose to forget?_

'You deal with the two on the right, I'll take the remainder,' Nate said.

They fired simultaneously, vaulted over the ridge and took cover in perfect synchronization. Harry received a bout of nostalgia, and grieved the days they had been partners in the business. When they were inseparable.

They immobilized the remaining two.

'We have to get up there,' Harry indicated a higher floor that was open to the rest of the chamber.

'Here, help me push this cart over so we can reach the ledge.'

Harry watched Nate from the corner of his eye; he had always had an envious admiration for his physical aptitudes. He vaguely found himself looking the other man up and down.

'Keep pushing!' Nate grunted; eyes closed.

'As if you need my help you lazy bastard,' Harry remarked, regretting it already.

'Was that a compliment Flynn?' Nate sardonically questioned.

Harry looked up to see Nate's eyes were open, and his jesting expression dulled to an inquisitive confusion.

_How long was his eyes open? _'Of course not you cocky bastard,' but he stumbled for a proper explanation.

Nate laughed, 'Just keep pushing.'

Harry's self-hatred swelled. He could feel the past creeping up on him again, and he had the sudden urge to smash his head against a wall.


	2. Chapter 2

'Here, give me a boost and I'll release the ladder.'

Harry stood to face Nate before kneeling. He faced is partner's waist, who held his leg up expectantly, waiting for Harry to create a foot-hold.

As he heaved Nate upwards, he allowed a brushing moment of contact, which sent his mind wandering.

The ladder crashed, thrashing his mind back to reality. As he peaked the climb, Nathan was already shimmying along the wall.

'Look at you, you bloody monkey, remind me to form a theory on your behalf.'

'A theory on what?' Nate called from above.

'The missing-link. Think of the money I'd get from getting that published, my name would go down in history.'

Nate gave a sarcastic, half-hearted laugh before the door opposite Harry slammed open. A heavy-set sentry wielding a baton came charging, shouting foreign jargon. Harry suffered a battering. He evaded an over-arched swing and attempted to twist the large man's arm into a lock, but the brute resisted.

The sentry made to grab his handheld transceiver, but Harry frantically pawed at it, knocked it from his grasp. The brute lifted Harry from his feet and slammed him into the ground, Nate took aim and fired.

The moment the dart jabbed into the brute's arm, he pulled it out and shoved it into Harry's neck. Nate was behind him in an instant, pulling the sentry up into a choke-hold, his bicep and fore-arm tucked firmly around his neck, muscles tightening like a boa-constrictor.

Harry pulled the dart from his neck, fortunate to not have pierced an artery. The struggling pair scrambled to the ground, the large man still in a hold. The weight of the sentry came close to crushing Nate's rib cage. As the sentry's face grew blood-red, spitting desperately for air, he finally fell limp.

Harry's torso had been bruised and his neck was numb. As he walked towards Nate, he already started feeling the effects of the little anesthetic that managed to get into his blood stream.

'Flynn, you alright?' Nate approached him.

'Yeah,' He stumbled, 'Ugh, shit mate.'

'You're going pale, I think you're concussed.'

'No, tranquilizer… My neck – I need to sit down.' As he collapsed, Nate moved forward to catch him.

'Crap, did I shoot you?' He lowered Harry against a wall.

The last comment barely penetrated Harry's delirium, and he found himself chuckling at the irony as he faded out of consciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry's mind tottered on the brink of reality, falling in and out of awareness. All lucidity eluded his thoughts. He was plagued by fantasies and memories, the two mingling in such crude ways. Images of Nate were threaded throughout dream and reality alike, following him into every plane of consciousness. The last image he saw was of a man leaning over him, a scar marring the left side of his abdomen.

Suddenly his nerves came to life as if he had fallen into water; the sensation chilled him to the bone. He was still wet from the sewers. He felt himself lying atop a strange texture.

'Grass?' Harry murmured as he hoisted himself up.

'We're in a courtyard.' Nate was barely an arm's length away.

'Bloody hell,' He pressed his fingers into his temples. 'How long was I out?'

'Not long at all, I just dragged you out here, and took care of a few patrols in the area. To be honest I wasn't expecting you to wake up so soon, you sure can handle the anesthetic,' Nate said questionably.

'I just got a little bit in me, no big deal.'

'How are you feeling now?'

_Nostalgia. _'Just a bit groggy.' Harry opened his eyes to see that they were in a small garden, concealed by shrubbery.

'We still have time – I hope - so just relax and try sober up a bit.' Nate sprawled out, 'I need to take a breather.'

There was a pause, as Harry found himself conflicted again. 'Were you going to leave me here?' He was too delirious to even regret the tone of vulnerability in his voice.

Nate shot him a quizzical look, Harry was just stared up through the bushy canopy. 'Of course not, we've been in worse situations, we always manage.'

_If only I had your blind optimism Drake…_ 'We have been, but I wouldn't say we handled it.'

Nate went dark then.

Harry continued staring, up through an open patch in the bush, deep into the night sky. He used to pretend he was ethereal, when he would stare into infinity, that sense of insignificance serving as the best kind of therapy. It made everything seem pointless, everything that was done to him, everything he couldn't stop from happening, the people that had broken him as a child, and the people that continued to haunt him as he advanced down the woeful trail of life. All of it paled in comparison to the fathomless firmament above.

'Flynn,' Nathan piped in, 'I'm sorry I left. I regret not trying to sort things out, but I was just as torn as you.'

Harry kept silent. Finally, he turned to meet Nate's eyes, a pause followed. Nate's expression of concern slowly shifted to a faint realization.

Harry half-heartedly wilted his arm up and brushed Nate's stomach with his knuckles. Nate's expression was on the verge of deadpan.

_No protest…_

Harry pushed himself up, all the while keeping his eyes on Nate, and slowly moved in. Nate elevated himself on one elbow as they grew closer. Harry indecisively pressed his lips onto Nate's and closed his eyes. _He remembers._

Harry slowly parted his lips. Nate's eyes remained open, and were set in a dark tone, as if abashed. Harry embraced him, moving in as close as possible, until their waists were connected. His arousal created a protuberance in his jeans, and he pushed his thigh between Nate's legs to discover the other man was not aroused. _He feels nothing._

Harry pulled away, barely fazing Nate who had begun staring at nothing; his expression an enigma. 'What are you doing?' Nate asked absentmindedly.

Harry laid back down, closed his eyes. 'Earlier,' He began, 'Back in the sewers. You and Chloe exchanged a few words…'

They both went quiet, and Nate lowered himself again. Their brows furrowed, they laid in a silent void.

'Chloe and I… have a history.'

'I gathered.' Harry replied monotonously.

'You did?'

'It's not hard to tell you two are familiar, it isn't just flirting.' His voice was solemn.

Nate didn't respond.

_He doesn't need me at all; I was the one that came back to him. What was I thinking? That he would suddenly have a change of mind. They will probably cross me the first opportunity they get._

'I'm just a bit addled from the tranq,' Harry stood up, 'Let's get on with it.'

They continued on in silence, as if nothing had happened.


	4. Chapter 4

Upon finding the alleged artifact, Harry hurried Nate along, eager to leave.

'C'mon, time to go.'

As Nate went about scattering the evidence they had left, Harry pulled himself up onto a higher platform. He turned around and looked down at Nathan Drake.

He began pulling the rope up.

'What the hell are you doing?' Nate called.

'Sorry mate, this is where we part ways.' _Feel the irony._

'Wait Flynn, we had a plan.'

'No – You had a plan,' Harry snarled. 'Turns out I need one of my own.'

Nate nodded dismissively as if surrendering to a joke, 'Okay, C'mon, throw me the rope, don't be stupid.'

'Oh, right, you're the mastermind,' Flynn reached into his bag, 'only you overlooked one little detail,' He procured a proper gun and aimed it down at Nate. _I don't care anymore. No feeling, never care. Just coldness. Don't let him betray you again. Just point and shoot._

'So what are you gonna do, shoot me now?' Nate said, baffled.

_Good question. _He kept his gun trained on Nate. _He's just a target, shoot him like you'd shoot anyone else. _His hand began to shake. He fired, and a glass display-box shattered, triggering an alarm, 'No,' He finally said, 'I just need you out of the way for a little bit.'

'Flynn, listen.' Nate was panicking now.

_Oh, now he's eager to talk._

'What's this really about? Is it about before?' Nate scrambled for a last resort.

Harry took aim again, 'I just want a bigger pay-off,' He lied. _I'd rather die than see you look at her._

Nate started to run. Harry fired again. 'Ah-ah-ah,' He teased, 'I want to give those guards at least a head-start.'

Frantic foreign shouts emerged from the illuminated hallway ahead, 'Right, that's my cue,' Harry took one last glance at the cornered man below, watching him panic as if he was no longer there. He came close to breaking, but caught himself. _I hope you fucking rot mate._


	5. Chapter 5

**4 years earlier**

'Why do you get to wear the vest?'

'Because it looks better on me,' Harry said, looking obliquely in the mirror at Nate, who had his arms folded.

'I don't think so,' Nate retorted.

'Well, that's a matter of opinion isn't it mate.'

'Huh?' Nate shifted on his feet.

Harry turned around and propped himself against the bureau, looking at Nate with a smirk, 'I look dashing and you know it.'

'Yeah, you wish princess,' Nate made to leave, punching Harry on his way through. 'C'mon, it's going to start any minute, we can't miss the pre-mingling period.'

'He must be a cocky bastard to have arranged to establish such an ill-sported contract during a flamboyant ceremony such as this.'

'I suspect he's trying to convey a message. He's feeling dirty for resorting to our services, and he's trying to show us that he isn't just any wealthy low-life.'

'But who are we to complain, if the gaudy display of opulence is any indication, he's going to be paying big for our services. Anyone who's willing to spend one and a half grand on suits for his clients, will surely be generous when it comes to the contract itself.'

Nate glanced at Harry as they walked astride down the corridor, 'I'm not sure if it's the suit playing tricks on me, but you seem to be more pompous than usual.'

'Well you better get used to it mate, this isn't just some casual party we're going to. Besides,' Harry grinned, 'I'm an Englishman in a vest, would you expect any less?'

Nate rolled his eyes, 'Well, not from you.'

* * *

><p>'What the hell is this?' Nate gaped into the vicinity.<p>

'Would you look at that, it's a bloody masquerade.'

The bouncer moved to obstruct their passage into the chamber. 'No mask, no entry.'

'That's just great isn't it,' Harry said.

'This is beyond weird, wouldn't he have mentioned this?'

The bouncer appeared to suddenly remember something, 'Wait, what are your names?'

'Fors and Forma,' Nate immediately responded.

Harry maintained an expression of composure despite his confusion.

'Oh yes, I have been instructed to give you these,' The bouncer procured two distinctly elaborate visors. 'Apologies for the inconvenience,' He granted them passage.

They entered the chamber, 'Fors and Forma?' Harry questioned sardonically, 'Those are some distinguishing aliases.'

'I know, I looked them up, they are Latin. Roughly translates to _Last Hope._' Nate asserted.

'Carelessly poetic if you ask me.'

'Obviously he isn't well experienced in this line of business.'

'But nonetheless well-versed in the art of cliché.'

'Indeed,' Nate affected an aura of haughtiness and straitened his mask.

Harry stared, dumb-founded and slightly disgusted.

'Well, I tried didn't I?'

Harry gave an unconvincing chuckle, and then shook his head as if forgetting a dirty image. 'No, really, don't do that, please.'

The main room was bustling with eloquently suited bodies, reminiscent to a renaissance period Italian festival. The chandeliers shed shimmering light that reflected off the many lustrous materials and jewelry adorned on furniture and clothing alike. The common mien of the party was one of dignified superiority, illustrated by the upturned noses and puckered lips of the people.

A masked waiter approached Harry and Nate, 'Complimentary drinks, from a friend,' He offered two glasses of vintage wine.

'From a friend? From an _acquaintance_, if anything,' They accepted the offering.

The waiter bowed his head and stepped away without another word.

'Hang on, what's this,' Nate discovered a small sheet of paper wrapped around the stem of the glass. It unraveled to reveal a cryptic note. 'This guy can't be serious,' Nate said, reading through the puzzle, '_The dragon nests within an eagle's burrow and howls amongst_-'

'There he is,' Harry interrupted.

Nate followed to where Harry's eyes were fixed. A man fashioning a draconic mask stared back at them from across the room, he eyes meandered in a vain attempt to appear inconspicuous before retreating through a door.

'This joker cannot be serious,' Harry gave a baffled laugh.

'In any case, he is a filthy rich joker. C'mon.'

* * *

><p>'So glad for you to have accepted my invitation bereft of hesitation,' The frail man drawled.<p>

'I wouldn't say bereft…' Nate said.

'Yes, well I would be pleased to accommodate your ambivalence and sate such-'

'Can you get to the point, I grow weary of your loquacious dribble.' Harry interjected. Nate glanced sideways, suppressing a grin.

The man flushed, 'Yes, astute, to the point. My contract involves the snuffing of an obtrusive candle, so to speak.'

'In other words you want us to kill someone, right?' Harry was growing irritated by the man's cryptic speech.

'Woah, look old man, we're professional thieves, not mercenaries.' Nate made to stand up.

'But wait,' He held up his hand, 'I do not require murder in a direct fashion. If you would listen to my proposal in full…'

Nate looked skeptical, before sitting down again.

'There has been some unrest amongst the local households of late,' He began, 'And my faction's opposing force has managed to establish an armistice with the only household powerful enough to inflict enough damage to collapse this said household. That's where you two and your skills in subversion can assist…'

There was an indecisive silence. 'I don't know,' Nate said, 'Your proposal seems a bit loaded.'

'I'll tell you what's loaded,' Harry piped in, 'This guy right here,' He pointed at the old man.

'Indeed, I am – so to speak – loaded,' There was a hopeful pride in his voice. 'I am willing to recompense you for your services, would eighty-thousand American dollars suffice?'

'Flynn,' Nate turned to Harry, 'This is risky; we could end up in serious trouble.'

'Isn't that how it always is?' Harry smiled, knowing Nate loved the risk as much as he did. 'Besides, we can pull it off.'

Nate considered, obviously conflicted.

'Yes? You will take the contract?'

'Yes, we will take the contract,' Harry answered for the both of them, as if it was never really a question.

'Splendid.' The old man rubbed his hands together in anticipation. 'Now, I need you to sign.'

'Of course you do,' Before he could place pen to paper, Nate reached out and grasped Harry's wrist, fixing his eyes on him. He waited for Harry to read his doubts.

Harry's head was turned from their client, so he did not see it when Harry shot his friend a reassuring wink. Nate sobered and let the signing continue, still unsure.

'Splendid, splendid,' The client exclaimed. 'I will remain in contact with your agent. Enjoy the remainder of your night gentlemen; it was a pleasure doing business with you.'

* * *

><p>'Do I just have no say whatsoever when it comes to signing substantial documents?' Nate questioned. They had found a booth that was mostly isolated from the activity.<p>

'Would you relax, when we get that far, it's best to sign the contract than to get a client angry, especially one as arrogant as snake-face back there. He could turn us into the authorities out of spite alone.'

'But he was the one who sought out our services.'

'What proof would we have of that? At least when we've signed the contract, the client is now in as much a vice as we are. That's why I always take a copy, and that is why it is best to sign. We don't actually have to go through with it; the signing is an oxymoron in itself: a legal document condoning illegal activity… Don't you get it? Signing the contract is more in our better interest than the clients,' Harry explained.

'Yeah okay, the authorities aren't a factor when it comes to this sort of deal, but what about the furious underground circles that may or may not unload bullets in our heads?'

'Oh please, Drakey-boy, did you not just sit with the same man I did? That fool and the rest of his household wouldn't know conflict if it kicked them in their pompous asses.'

'Well,' He searched for an argument. 'That's actually a good point,' They laughed. The moment went suddenly quiet as they both lounged back against the soft chairs.

'I'm keen for a drink,' Harry scanned the room for a waiter, and failed to find one.

'So we're not following through with the contract right?' Nate persisted.

'Drake, look at it like this: when's the last time we had a substantial job let alone one of this sort of pay? You know as well as I do that business has gone stale. This might be our last chance for all we know- Ah, there's one,' He stood and called out, 'Aye, waiter, yes over here,' Waving.

Nate pondered on the implications Harry pointed out.

'Would you like some wine sir?'

'No thanks mate, where's the bar?'

'There's no open bar tonight, although I can fulfill requests, if you have something in mind…'

Harry turned to Nate, 'Would you like something?'

'I'll get a beer thanks.'

'Bottle of tequila for me, Sierra Silver if you've got it, if not, next best thing,' He handed the waiter a roll of money.

'Flynn!' Nate suddenly emerged from his rumination. 'A bottle of tequila?'

'I'll return with the requested drinks,' The waiter sauntered off.

'Spirits for the spirit mate,' He laughed, 'Ease up would you.'

* * *

><p>The first few shots saw the two slightly addled, and then a series of synchronized throw-backs of the head heralded the departure of their convictions. They turned out mingling just for the fun of it.<p>

'I say my fellow governor: how far is your head up your illustrious backside?' They affected an ostentatious accent.

'Oh my,' Harry placed a hand against his chest. 'You must be sorely uninformed amongst the gossiping circles of nobility, my head holds reservations for the Queen's ass. And mine' ass is for the sorry fool aspiring to usurp my own vain status in this sorry miasma of petty pretense…'

It didn't take long for the two to be escorted from the premises.

'I'm in the mood for partying, aren't you?' Harry asked, as they passed a night-club pulsing with sound.

'Why not? I'm already tipsy,' Nate laughed.

The club was already in a state of fever pitch as the crowd bounced to the thump of the bass.

'Ha, I know this song!' Harry declared as he started dancing.

'Really?' Nate questioned, somewhat disbelieving.

'Yeah, it's called Faxing Berlin.'

'I never took you for a techno-fan.'

'It's not techno mate, it's house music.'

Nate didn't reply, standing awkwardly, 'I'm starting to sober up, pass the tequila.' He reached out an eager hand.

The inebriation caused Harry to laugh more than what would be considered natural, before passing the bottle.

* * *

><p>Their minds were gone, lost in the heavy reverberation of sound and convulsive reiteration of flashing lights. The bass relentlessly pounded at their very fabric, permeating the surface and purging the core.<p>

Their heads swung to and fro in a dazed state of simplicity. All they knew was the deep underlying thumping of the rhythm, nothing else mattered.

Harry could smell the sweat on Nate. The throb cleansed his mind, pulsing through his body and superseding woes, expelling all memories, and leaving him with just this moment of pure ecstasy. He took another swig of tequila.

The state was overwhelming, and every brush of his body against Nate's sent his mind unapologetically wandering. Nothing existed but this room. And Nate.

Despite his flaccid expression, tears where streaming down his cheeks. Swirling shades of smoke were accentuated by the beaming luminosity, slowly curling and shifting as the lights flashed and dimmed. Even the air within the room seemed to surrender to the pulsating rhythm.

His clothes were wet with perspiration, his aching joints and spent muscles mixed pain with pleasure. The more he danced, the more he ached, the more he drank: the more he numbed his mind. With every mouthful of inebriant, he fell deeper into rapture.

All the bruises he had endured, and the torment and confusion, all of it was meaningless; all that mattered was the bass.

The fervor was manifested on his skin; goose-flesh marred the smooth texture. White chords raced through his body. The room was spinning and the lights were melding into one ethereal vision, blurring as he swayed his head. All around was a blinding panorama of blended light, bright streams spun in a hurricane of euphoria. He had stripped his shirt from his body and was amongst the crowd, bare bodies rubbed against his, hands groped and shamelessly fondled, the tension in his jeans was evident.

Then everything came collapsing inwards, as he saw Nate, looking at him with those eyes. He was suddenly taken aback, and everything shrunk away as Harry stared back at Nate.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry watched as Nate danced alongside a beautiful girl, she held his eyes in brief moments of flirtation, while Nate just stared eagerly.

Averting his eyes, Harry scanned for a lone girl, someone he could dance with. Nate could not see how alone Harry was whenever he'd leave his side. _As if he'd even spare a glance in the first place…_

A woman by the bar met his eyes.

'You look a bit lonely fella, mind if I join you?' She had a femininely rugged southern accent.

'Please do.'

She smiled, 'Name's Sophie.'

'Harry,' He was still too intoxicated to think of an alias.

They failed to exchange further words, choosing instead to talk with their eyes, although, Harry was unaware of his inconsistent eye contact with his dance partner.

'She the one you wanted then?' She asked.

'What do you mean?'

'I seen you staring at her for ages before you looked my way, it's not a problem mind you, she is a sexy one,' She giggled, gazing at Nate and the brown-haired girl.

'She is, isn't she?'

'Hey, I have a room rented in this building…' Her breasts bounced healthily, and it was evident that she was making them as obvious as she could.

Harry didn't need to consider, he was feeling a growing need to leave the room anyway. 'Lead the way.'

* * *

><p>Harry found himself at pains to bring himself to an aroused state; his mind was still on the dancing pair, and the way they had looked at each other.<p>

Sophie groped through Harry's trousers in an attempt to knead him from his flaccidity, 'You not in the mood, or am I just not doing it right?' She pouted.

Harry knelt before her, sensing her insecurity hidden behind the joke. He closed his eyes.

'Ah, so the dragon awakes, finally,' She remarked, as she fondled a hardening bulge.

It began to fold inwards against the restriction of his attire. Sophie carefully freed Harry's manhood from its restraint.

'Oh my, I sure made a good decision didn't I?' She took hold and began caressing his length.

Her mouth came crashing into his, and her tongue vivaciously explored.

He was shoved prostrate and she climbed atop, sitting on his pelvis. Her breasts were bared in an instant, as if she had prepared to free them so casually.

Harry's trousers were pulled from him, and soon her jeans had joined his clothing on the floor. With a new found flare, Harry commanded the dominant position, taking her before him as he held himself aloft with arms as pillars at either side of her.

He slid himself inside of her with a steady thrust, and continued to librate his hips in a skillful circular motion. His eyes remained closed.

He ran his hands down her abdomen, imagining the serrated surface of a muscled stomach. He could almost hear the familiar panting in his imagination. A face appeared before his closed eyes, rugged and caring, perfectly cropped brown hair, and that same smile that struck him for the first time when he was twenty-one.

His thrust became ragged and erratically faster, he moved one knee forward and placed it at Sophie's side for leverage.

Moments passed, the two were moist with sweat. A droplet fell from his nose and onto her lounged breasts. The masculine scent of his body emanated enough to prevail the whiff of her perfume, which helped contribute to his imagination.

It came as a dizzying explosion of ecstasy. As he jerked out his final climaxing thrust, the word 'Nate' escaped his lips in a pained utterance that was followed by a single tear.

And the face plaguing his mind no longer smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

Sophie had stared questionably, wondering at what she'd just heard and half comprehending Harry's cause for his mood.

The absence of words seemed to create a void, which only made the last word spoken echo. Her gaze silently followed him around the room as he gathered his clothing, eyes on his back as he walked out the door.

Walking alone, his only real companion was his own self-contempt. Ashamed and feeling dirty, he couldn't help but feel as though he had defiled himself. His only solace came from attributing the ludicrous fantasies to his depressive-malady, judgment impaired by an unbalanced mind. Oblivion was perforce his only option: erasing this night from memory as though it never happened.

_That, I will do._

Night in the city was never silent, and always bright. Lights reflected off wet concrete, lending the street a sleek finish. Rain had permeated the fabric of Harry's clothing. Undershirt free from trousers, waistcoat slovenly donned, tie unfastened and hanging loose, hair abjectly disheveled; his state contrasted conflictingly with his attire, like a vagrant who decided to sport formal attire.

Hands hidden in pockets, his flat shoes slapped the puddled walk-way with each seemingly directionless step. Sirens sounded in the distant, muffled by the glittering steles towering above.

Rain fell in a torrential downpour; Harry heedlessly abided his ambling gait. Rain entering his opened collar, it flowed over him like rivers through valleys of muscled flections. His hair drenched, threads stuck to his forehead. It felt cleansing, purifying. _Nothing questions the rain._

He lifted his chin, gazing at the night-sky and how the rain seemed to rush towards him like thousands of bullets. Each drop represented an element of vanity. Fear, woe, happiness, hatred, it all came streaking passed him, with few sensations happening to come barreling into him. He imagined that it was he that was moving; hastening passed the arrays of emotion, never ceasing his migration.

_No destination, forever moving. Clarity._

The speeding car and the wave of water it pushed up from the side-walk brought him back to reality.

He was first to arrive back at the apartment, as Nate was evidentally still out. It wasn't until the room was lighted with a crepuscular gloom that a rapping sounded from the door. Restless, Harry opened the door. A stumbling Drake supported by the brunet girl from the Night-club staggered in, Harry immediately moved forward to relieve some of the girl's burden.

'It's not what it looks like,' she nervously laughed, 'I had no idea he had drunk so much.'

Harry then noticed the cuts and grazes marring Nate's skin, 'Take a few tumbles did he?' He chuckled.

They lowered him onto the couch, 'No, he got himself in a brawl. When he was made to leave I drove him here. I managed to get him to tell me where he is lives.'

'Thanks for that,' he rubbed the back of his neck, looking at Drake, 'Can't wait to tell him how he had to be baby-sitted.'

'He had a bottle of tequila, in the end it was near empty!'

Harry's mouth opened as he came to a realization, 'Actually, I drank most of that. He just isn't accustomed to spirits.'

'Oh I see, well that's a bit of a relief.'

'Thanks again aye,' Harry fished through his wallet before offering some recompense. Really, he just wanted her to leave, and she did.

Nate awoke and began rolling himself off the couch, as he attempted to stand, he wavered, lost his feet and faltered into the wall. The raucous alerted Harry, who was in another room.

He emerged to find Nate struggling to find his feet again. 'Drake, no, c'mon-,' He lunged forward to catch him before he could come into contact with the glass table. 'Just relax, lie down.'

Nate suddenly resisted with blind strength, shoving at Harry. He tried his best to stop Nate's head from vaulting into the ground. _Bottle of tequila… smart choice. I should've listened to Drake…_

They fell in a struggle on the ground, Harry voicing labored curses. Like a parent's last resort to deal with a child, he held Nate in a restraint.

When he no longer resisted, Harry reached an embrace around the drunk man, holding him in place. He pulled tight, despite the sudden surrender.

Forehead against Nate's temple, they remained bonded in an embrace as Nate drifted off to sleep. Harry, tugged by a new-found sense of contentment, soon followed.

* * *

><p><em><strong>I have put together a variety of Harry themed wallpapers, thought others might appreciate them. Here is the download link: <strong>_http :/ www. filesavr .com/NR6Y3C21ZNEG7VF?reloaded=true __

_**Remember to take the spaces out of the URL.  
><strong>_

_**Note that the files are all Jpegs compressed into a Zipped folder. So after downloading the file, all you need to do is Extract the images to wherever you want. They won't open until you've extracted them. **_


	8. Chapter 8

Pain surged from Nate's retina to his head as his inflamed eyes opened to the blinding light of morning. Bruises made him tender, waking up into a state of lethargy. _Hangovers. _

_You know you had an eventful night when you wake up spooning a friend._ Harry's face was slumped against the carpet. As Nate turned himself, the redolent of alcoholic breath warmed his face. He could feel something incongruous pushed against his back, it didn't take long for him to realize what it was.

Suddenly more uncomfortable, he attempted to edge out of his grasp. Shifting, Harry started awake, eyelids lifting to reveal bloodshot eyes. 'Morning sunshine,' Harry rubbed at his eyes, rolling over onto his back.

'A glorious morning it is, isn't it…' Nate teased.

Harry perked up, puzzling for a short moment before his eyes led to the shamelessly visible protuberance in his pants. His face aflush with red, he sat up immediately in an attempt to make it less noticeable. 'Mate, really?'

Nate just laughed. Checking his phone, it caught his attention and he went silent.

'Do you remember getting blind drunk and picking a fight with a skin-head?' Harry started.

'No, but my shoulder seems to,' Stretching his arm, still rapt with the device. 'Got a message from John, says that he's arranged an information seminar with Albern. I've a mind to tell him the contract is off, and not just because I'm hung-over…'

'Drake, we need this job. Even with an agent as good as John, it's been impossible to find any work opportunities. The payoff this guy is offering can bridge the gap between our next job, and it's a big sodding bridge mate, exactly what we need!'

'Well he says we're meeting Albern today at some warehouse in the city slums. We better get ready.' Nate dropped his protest, concurring with Harry's argument.

'This isn't how it goes, you, the client, are meant to give us a direct task.' Nate explained, irritated. _This man has a way of getting on your nerves._

The room was dank, crudely adorned with makeshift furniture that contrasted with its surroundings. Nate knew there would be sentries stationed at different vantages throughout the warehouse. His pistol, concealed on his person, gave him a sense of reassurance.

'Your task, Mr. Drake, is to destabilize the House of Mora. Are my requests somehow obscure?' Albern affected a domineering tone.

'Those aren't the kind of tasks we take on, you're asking us to devise methods and procedures. You are meant to give us the means to complete the contract, we just handle the execution.'

'Well I'll remember to take this excess into consideration when satisfying your expenses.' Albern put an end to the argument as if driving a knife into the wooden table between them. _Money is at times, more potent than a knife…_

'Sounds good to me,' Harry interjected. 'But, are your considerations going to cover the expense of resources?'

Albern hesitated, smothering a confused expression.

'Equipment, like cameras, infrared devices, lethal and non-lethal guns, etcetera. You really have no bloody clue, do you old man?' He shook his head, smiling.

Albern flustered, 'Forgive me for my inaptitude in the field of criminal activity.'

'Save your defensive insults. This is becoming painfully pointless. You better get serious Albern, or we cut the contract.' Nate concluded.

'And you gentlemen better justify your expenses. I will not hesitate to neglect incompetency.'

'Mate, you're not in a position to threaten us. We're expecting a balance for the resources. Be sure to tend to that matter old chap.'

The pair absented from the room, leaving a disconcerted client to stew on the barter he had just lost.

Two weeks of reconnaissance provided them with maps, names, and other important information.

'If the task is to obliterate the peace agreement between the Mora house and the superior Avent House, then obviously we need to find the armistice documents and exploit the terms by which the armistice was signed.' Nate asserted.

'But how are we going to find something like that, it's likely safeguarded in some covert location in the city,' They were silent as they cogitated. 'There is perhaps one window of opportunity…'

'And what's that?'

'There is a conference being held very soon, during our scouting I found an invitation, I only vaguely read over it, but we could get some details regarding the occasion.'

'Another party. Did you have something in mind, or are you just anticipating some free booze?' He laughed.

'Both… But in all seriousness, if the representatives and masters of each Household attends, Renigan Mora will likely show his face there.'

'So you intend on just asking him straight up: 'hey buddy, I'm curious, where do you keep your armistice?''

'We can follow him after he departs from the party, or something like that. We will need more details.' Harry reclined in his chair, somewhat proud of himself.

'Albern should be able to get us invitations to the conference.'

'More parties. The many fragments of nobility will always be at each other's throats, looking for opportunities to usurp one another, but they sure love to host their celebrations don't they?'

'It's a fun way to gain status, I think.' Harry laughed.

'How I hate politics.'

'Are you kidding, political intrigue is full of excitement!' Harry sarcastically remarked.

There was a silence. before Nate raised an eyebrow. 'Oh and Flynn?'

'What?'

'No tequila this time.'


	9. Chapter 9

The conference was alive with chatter. Courtly officials mingled and drifted, attaching uncaringly onto neighboring circles. The presidents of each household were present, alongside their Ambassadors and Generals.

Harry attended under the title of Emissary of House Johnson, a fraudulent company espoused by counterfeit documents and papers. Patiently, he watched Renigan Mora with an expectant eye. The statuesque official at his side turned to answer a phone call.

Harry watched as Renigan Mora's General attempted to remain composed. Hushed, he spoke frantically into Renigan's ear, and so the fluster was passed, as Renigan himself could not hide his fury. After receiving hissed orders, the general briskly strode from the room.

_Good._ 'Looks like his General is going in his stead, he's leaving the building now.' Harry muttered into his ear-piece, safely hidden beneath veiling side-burns.

* * *

><p>Nate crouched, poised atop a building adjacent to the vicinity. Adumbrated by a taller structure, he was hidden from the moon's revealing glow, watchful eyes trained on the grand doors of the hotel, which swung open.<p>

'Red hair, black tuxedo?' Nate inquired.

Brief intermission, _That's him._ Harry's communication rang hollow from Nate's ear-piece.

Nate started off into a swift gait, wary of the potentially lose tiles scaling the gables.

The general's pace was something short of sprinting. He meandered through the shanty towns at a hastened pace, his path inconsistently lit at sporadic intervals by lamp-posts. Nate took notice of the General's gallivanting route, but his resolute stride suggested a method to his madness.

Departing the wealthy district, Nate watched as the General attenuated his haste, briefly scanned his surroundings and reached for his pocket.

'Flynn, note this.' He waited for confirmation.

_Go on._

'Seventeen-eighty Tide street. The key is kept within the right-wing pocket of his blazer.'

_Okay, got it. _

The General procured a pistol before swinging the door open, and Nate smiled at his evident confusion before retreating into the shadows.

* * *

><p>Harry was growing weary of sharing banal courtesies with the members of the assembly when, finally, the Mora General returned, looking disgruntled. Methods of acquiring the key from the General's person swept through his thoughts, analyzing each possibility, he found faults in near all potential actions.<p>

His gaze swept the room for inspiration, before locking on the waiter, who was burdened with a tray of wine-filled glasses. He looked to where Renigan Mora stood, then back at the General. The General would cross paths with the waiter. Harry receded into the crowd.

When he reemerged, a hand swiftly shifted the waiter's tray enough for it to tumble from his palm, consequently spilling wine onto the Mora General. Silence fell over those of witness. The waiter stuttered apologies, pulled a cloth from his waist and delicately begun dabbing at the General's coat.

'You fumbling fool!' The General snapped, pushing the waiter away.

'Incompetence, a waiter that can't bare a tray…' Harry prodded, knowing full well the pride they take in immaculate subservience.

The waiter's expression was one of dignified shock. 'I can bare a tray just fine,' he hesitantly announced.

'Then how is it you managed to spill wine all over this gentleman?'

The General made off towards Renigan once again.

'He shoved it from my grasp.' The waiter's confidence died quickly as the General swelled with anger.

'I did no such thing!' He boomed, approaching the waiter.

Harry watched, waited for an opportunity. He knew there would be none at this rate, unless he intervened.

'We've heard quite enough, allow me to escort you from the chamber,' Harry stepped towards the waiter. Jerking himself backwards as to feign the appearance of being shoved, he let himself fall hard against the General. They sprawled to the ground as witnesses gasped and reached to help the General back to his feet.

The General was scowling fiercely at the waiter, blind in rage. His blazer was spread, revealing the key for the briefest of moments, which Harry twisted and plucked from his peripheral vision.

Holding his jaw in a pained affectation, Harry retreated to the rest-rooms, where he pressed the acquired key into a mold. Returning to the conference room, he planted the key onto the first official that crossed his path. He could not keep the key itself, for it would undoubtedly be chipped.

_Politics is fun. _He mused.

With that, Harry absconded from the conference.

'I've got it,' He said whilst loosening his tie.

_Already? Good, I'm at the Motel. _

* * *

><p>'Criminal work comes naturally to you doesn't it?' Nate's arms were folded, and he suppressed a smirk.<p>

'Says the thief,' Harry laughed.

Nate joined Harry on the couch, lounging back. 'How'd it go?'

Procuring a case, he opened it to reveal a green mold with grooves where he had pressed the key's blade; he tossed it onto the coffee table. 'I may have costed a waiter his job, poor bastard.'

'Sacrifices must be made, right? Nate sounded unsure of himself.

'For one-hundred and fifty thousand dollars? I think so.' Harry nudged at Nate, who rose from the couch. He glanced around the room with his hands cradling the back of his head as if lost and exhausted.

'Mate?' His voice was gentle.

There was a brief interlude of silence, as Nate seemed lost in thought. 'What are we going to do Flynn?'

Harry slowly leaned forward, 'We're going to get the job done.' He waited for Nate to return his reassuring smile.

Nate turned away, 'I'm hitting the hay.'

'Yeah, okay.' He said softly, watching Nate as he left.

Resting back into the couch, he laid awake for the remainder of the night.

* * *

><p><strong>I made a video tribute to Harry, for I was bored and inspired. Here it is:<strong>

**http:/ www. youtube .com /watch?v=fo8Ih9OlgWw&list=UUdFRbojC0W-H2qsosTxOleg&index=1&feature=plcp**

**Sorry for the slow updates. Feeling despondent recently, which effects my writing.  
><strong>


	10. Chapter 10

Nate locked eyes with Harry before inserting the key, twisting, then swung the iron hatch inwards.

Fashioning the uniforms of Mora sentries, they walked as if familiar with the path they treaded. The tunnel descended into subterranean silence, the ambient vibration of neon lamps resonating in the narrow space like a thousand winged bugs humming their omnipotence.

They came to an opening and emerged into a large chamber. Firearms and ammunition were stacked copiously on sturdy iron-framed shelves. The armory was categorized, heavy firearms and lighter all separated into their respective areas. Harry and Nate made towards the pistols and revolvers, passing a sentry, escaping eye contact and affecting familiarity with an indifferent gesture.

They stopped at a bench baring racks of pistols, their attention falling on the least stocked tray, deducing that this particular model must currently be in use.

Harry inspected a pistol, 'Browning model, nine millimeter.'

Nate scribbled quickly into his journal, 'Why can't we just take a couple?'

Harry indicated a palimpsest, 'They keep tabs on their guns, if the numbers don't match up it could throw a spanner in the works. Best keep things flawless, aye.'

Nate grimaced, 'Stop making sense all the time.'

Harry was closely scrutinizing a cartridge, 'Nine millimeter, Kesler Tech ammunition.'

'You absolutely sure?' Nate asked while finishing his scrawl.

'Mate,' Harry placed a hand on Nathan's shoulder, winked. 'I know my guns.'

* * *

><p>The two thieves sat in a crude waiting room, the smell of mold thick in the air. Harry rubbed furiously at his inflamed nose, sniffling.<p>

'You got hay-fever or something,' Nate teased.

Harry glared, fingered his nostrils, 'In this bloody shit-hole. How long's he going to take?'

They were in an underground black-market post-office, their only method of receiving sent packages without worries of it being inspected by customs. Strictly covert, the service was priced at least five times that of conventional - legal - postal services.

'Everything seems to be going pretty smoothly,' Nate said.

Harry comprehended Nate's uncertainty, 'Mate, you need to relax.'

'Relax?' He laughed incredulously, 'Okay, promise me: no lives.'

'Jeez mate, now you're gonna hold my word against me?'

'I don't trust you is all.'

Harry grinned despite his minor pang of hurt. 'I promise.'

Nate realized his comment somehow effected Harry, 'Well it's not that I don't trust you. I just don't see how we can finish this _without_ taking lives, at this stage.'

'We just need to feign a botched assassination, unload a few rounds where they can be found. Besides, there needs to be witnesses. Killing would just complicate-'

Harry was cut short as Nathan indicated that company was approaching.

'Mr. Fors?' The server gestured to Nate. 'Your package. We cannot be held accountable for any damages.'

Nate hoisted the box and cradled it, the two left the room. When they arrived at their apartment, Nate placed the package on the bed and unseemed it with a knife. Harry was first to reach in, pulling out a pistol.

Nate scrounged through the opened package, 'Infrared Scope, more microphones, micro-cameras,' naming just a few of the constituents.

'Looks like we're all set,' Harry remarked.

'There's just one thing left to arrange,' Nate smiled now, the elation passing to Harry.

'Lucky someone's got their water-craft license.'

'As if that matters, how many identities have we been through just in this contract alone?'

'Saves having to forge one, at least,' Harry collapsed onto the bed.

Nate closed the package. 'Let's go now.'

Harry lifted his head to see Nate wearing an expression of anticipation. 'Now?'

'You really want to spend another night in this pit?'

Harry blinked, lifted himself to his feet, 'Yeah okay…'

Nate began gathering the scant few bits and pieces they had brought with them.

'Even a yacht would have better accommodation than this shit-hole.'

* * *

><p>Nate likened his step with the swaying floor as the boat laboriously climbed and descended the wake of a passing cruise ship. He watched the massive craft slice through the canal, its route unobstructed and clear. He took care not to spill the drinks in each hand. As his head crested the ladder leading to the top deck, he saw Harry, wearing only board-shorts, at the helm. Harry's attention was strictly ahead, as if lost in a reverie.<p>

'You make quite the sailor Flynn.' Nate said, handing a drink to Harry before seating himself down on a leather couch that abutted the helm.

Harry took a swig from his glass, swallowed. 'Cola? Is this an intervention?'

'We can't risk a hangover.' He smiled, 'Do you realize you drink things before knowing what you're even drinking?'

'I don't drink for the taste my friend, I drink for the effect.'

'Oh, you're a scarred soul aren't you?' Nate mocked.

Gulls cawed from above, gliding abreast the yacht like faithful followers, hoping to be guided by something wiser. The ocean's billows grinded against the polished hull and were tamed as the yacht crashed down upon swells, spraying brine into the air.

'You know how to drive a boat?' Harry asked.

'I know how to drive a dingy…'

They laughed.

'Here, steer it around a bit, get the feel for it.' Harry offered the helm.

As Nate stood with his hands on the helm, obviously keen but apprehensive, Harry guided him through how to operate the boat, and the general rules of the water-ways. Two hours went by, and Harry couldn't take his eyes of Nathan, who had been drenched by the salty spray and consequently removed his shirt.

'You pick up things pretty quickly,' Harry remarked as he laid recumbent on the sofa.

'Is that a compliment Flynn?' Nate grimaced.

'Yes it's a bloody compliment, get over it.' He closed his eyes.

'I could get used to this.' Nate said after a moment.

'You enjoy my company mate?' Harry tiredly taunted.

'I meant being on the water. It has a different atmosphere to land.'

'I know what you mean, freedom aye.'

There were not many other boats on the water, which made their northerly cruise all the more swift. Nate's eyes travelled west along the coast, to where the shoreline dipped inwards into what appeared to be a cove.

'I'm gonna take us in there where we can anchor for the night.' He was looking for Harry's more experienced validation.

'If you say so,' Harry muttered without stirring. Opening his eyes slightly, he stared sideways at Nate.

'I have to say, after all these years of working with you, I've never seen you take charge like you have with this contract – why are you staring at me like that?'

'You're just – go on with what you were saying.' He caught himself.

Hesitantly, Nate picked up where he'd left off, smirking. 'I was just saying, I always thought you were a lazy shit that didn't think things through, but recently you're not as lazy.'

'Thanks,' Harry frowned, 'I guess.'

'Hey,' Nate kicked Harry's arm. 'No need to be so serious.'

'I'm not, it's just… What am I to you?' He said weakly.

Nate paused, looked ahead. 'What do you mean, you're my partner.'

'No one goes five years, spending practically every day with someone who's just a business partner, right?'

'What are you trying to say?' Nate shifted uneasily, hands tensing around the helm.

Harry watched Nate, his biceps clenching as he clutched the wheel, the thin material of his shorts pronouncing the contours of his crotch. The sky bloomed with deep fiery hues cast by the sun which now only peaked over the horizon, the ocean shimmered. The lulling swish of the ocean water was lazy, its splashing commotion dying as the sun retired.

'I care about you.'

Nate looked then, at Harry, whos eyes betrayed as much as his voice: vulnerable, pained.

'The salt's getting to your head,' Nate dismissed. 'We're nearing the cove, how do we anchor?'

Harry remained still, wondering at himself. He slowly rose to his feet, 'Go watch the winch, there's a camera; just give me a signal when the chain reaches the red tag.'

'Got it,' Nate headed off.

Alone, Harry ran his fingers through his hair, resisting the urge to jump off the boat, into the flowing waters, where the raging currents would pull him towards the abyss.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Thank you for the kind reviews. It's really the only thing pushing me forward. I understand that the last few chapters have been a bit mundane, but I'm meticulous when it comes to context. In any case, most of the 'context' has been laid, so to speak; so it should get better from here. I hope at least. <strong>_


	11. Chapter 11

Two yachts swayed in ragged confluence, bound together with thick rope fastenings from bow to stern. Men burdened with heavy crates crossed back and forth over the makeshift walkway that bridged the gap between the crafts.

Vision enhanced through binoculars, Harry watched as the last exchanges were made between the two political houses. The platform was lifted and the ropes cast off, the boats then diverged.

'Looks like the trade is concluded,' Harry handed Nate the binoculars.

'There's no way of identifying which house represents which boat.'

Harry snatched the binoculars; observed for a good moment. 'If the Avant house is trafficking again tomorrow, then they will most likely stay on the water for the night…'

'So the boat headed towards the marina is Mora,' Nate deduced.

Flitting through pages, Harry fingered their directory, 'The Mermaid's Marina is the only dockage in this basin.'

'That settles it. We just need to make sure we don't lose them.'

'That's not what we need to worry about mate. We need to start thinking of how we are going to approach them undetected.'

Nate stood to leave, 'You do that, I'm gonna go get ready. Keep them within sight.'

* * *

><p>Cloud cover blotted the stars out. The full-moon emerged from tears in the blanket of gray, throwing its revealing luminescence onto the shimmering waters, and temporarily betraying the metallic shine of a metal dinghy. Moaning over the water, it moved slow enough to produce no wake.<p>

Nate and Harry sat anxiously in the craft, adjusting their ear pieces and other auxiliary equipment. The waters they rode were as dark as the gloom that now covered them as the moon retreated behind a wall of cloud.

'Now, faster. We need to get close enough so the hull can hide us from view; before the light returns.'

The muffled monotone of the dinghy's motor rose to a more excited, laborious hum as Harry twisted the throttle. The Avant trade-boat was naught but thirty paces yonder. When the distance was closed, their small craft quietly drifted closer until the rim – which was lined with cushioning foam – bobbed softly against the hull of the larger ship.

'C'mon mate,' Harry flicked the boat into neutral and formed a foot-hold with his hands.

Nate placed his foot in Harry's crude purchase, and pushed down on his shoulders to indicate he was ready. Nate was launched up the side of the Avant's hull, grabbing onto a drainage pipe and pulling himself to the brink of the boat. He threw Harry a gesture that announced he was secure.

Harry directed the dinghy around the length of the larger craft, and stopped on the opposite side of where Nate now hung. Harry scanned for some purchase that might grant him access over the hull.

A thick chain reached from the bow down into the water, the boat's anchor dug firmly into the seafloor. Harry scaled the slick chain, grasping rusty links for a surer grip. When he was high enough, he reached towards the boat and gripped onto a ledge. Shimmying along, he came to a pause, hanging aloft adjacent to Nate's position at starboard side.

'I'm in position,' He whispered into his ear-piece.

_About time, this is killing me. _Nate's transmission came just a bit loud.

'You ready-' Harry was cut short by the sound of alarmed shouting.

He pulled himself up to peer over the railing to see Nate pulled violently over the railing and into the boat by various men, their attention all turned away from Harry. Drawing his gun from its holster, he held with one arm as he aimed at the men dragging a frantic Nate. The strain on his left arm couldn't hold much longer, he jumped and propped himself on the edge, fired his gun.

The four men broke up like flies disturbed from a feast and unloaded their pistols at Harry. One bullet thumped into his abdomen, driving him back, a second met him midair. He tumbled over the threshold and was swallowed by the black waters below.

* * *

><p>The gun-shot had raised a flurry of retaliation, and the last Nate saw was Harry's body being wrenched backwards as if by unseen wires, beyond the light of the deck and into darkness.<p>

His eyes widened as his mind reeled at what he just witnessed. Mouth agape; lost in a reverie of grief, he was disrupted as he suffered a blow to the temple, leaving him dazed, head ringing. The grip of a pistol came cracking down into Nate's head like an adjudicator's hammer, decreeing the darkness that followed. His last thought was smothered, and the pain that flowered through his skull followed him into unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>Writhing in pain, Harry was pulled deeper below the surface, sinking rapidly. Tearing his shirt from his torso, he clawed at the strappings of his ballistic vest, picking off two flattened cartridges that still burned even now as he was submerged. At last, he unfastened the clasps and freed himself from the excess avoirdupois. Gaining his natural buoyancy, he kicked and paddled desperately.<p>

Breaking the surface with a gasp, he blinked the salty water from his eyes and swam towards the previously used dinghy, which had now drifted a small distance from the yacht. Heaving himself up into the craft, he ran fingers through his hair, breathe hitched.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck! _Hysteric, his mind raced, his thoughts writhing beneath the grip of self-possession. But he couldn't concentrate, consumed by fear of what Nate's fate might be if he didn't move _now_.

To his dismay, the yacht began to hum. He yanked at the dinghy's pull-start ignition, eliciting a lazy grunt from the motor, which refused to arouse. The yacht started moving through the water, pulling its anchor up as it moved against its catch. It was already on the move when Harry finally got the engine going. He twisted it to full-throttle and followed the yacht as best he could.

The Avant were vacating the area where they had thought they had killed Harry; he figured this much. The yacht opened the distance, the dinghy struggled in its wake, rocking precariously and throwing Harry off balance.

_I'll get you. Nate, I am coming. _

* * *

><p><em><strong>I've got a little something unexpected planned for the next chapter... And also, if things aren't fully coherent at the moment, it's because I plan on clarifying things later. Just making sure it doesn't come across as bad narrative form. <strong>  
><em>


	12. Chapter 12

His heavy lids slowly crept open. Acuity of vision clarified his post-slumber haze very gradually; finally Nathan could see that he was in a small chamber. He felt a change in velocity; the boat must have been moving. A dull gloom hung in the air, the one light source reaching out from the cracks lining the metal door.

His body ached, and his head throbbed. But he found he couldn't move. Bound to a chair, his wrists were tied behind him, ankles cinched to the two front legs of the chair, and his abdomen firmly strapped to its back.

The light cast from the door's sides was disturbed momentarily, and then the door itself swung inwards, he flinched at the burst of brightness.

'Ah, so the mouse awakens.' A man dressed in a casual summer-style shirt and half-length khaki trousers stepped in. He closed the door behind him, flicking the room's light on.

Nate deduced that it must be a storage chamber, and it smelled as if it abutted the septic compartment.

The Caucasian man stood before Nate, looking down with a haughty smile. 'What is your faction little mouse?'

Nate only stared back at the Avant tradesman, glaring despite his creeping apprehension.

The man only nodded, 'May I preach a bit of history to you little mouse?' He drew a serrated long-knife. 'Lingchi was an art practiced by the Chinese back in more turbulent times. Translating to: "Death by a thousand cuts", it involves the slow cutting of portions of the body, methodically ensuring a prolonged torture.'

Nate's pulse quickened as the knife waved playfully around his face, and his imagination ran wild.

The man kneeled down until level with Nate's gaze, 'Now I wonder how many cuts this mouse can suffer, before keening?' That eerie smile split over his face again.

* * *

><p>Harry stepped onto the Yacht's back landing, and proceeded with a frenzied celerity through a sliding door that was left ajar. The water had seized the majority of his equipment, rendering the minority that stayed on his person dysfunctional. First went his gun, which fell from his hand and into the depths, then his ear-piece was wrested from his head by the force of the impact. He had even been forced to discard his shoes. He was now naked, save for his damp black trousers that now clung to him.<p>

One man came into his path then; Harry closed the distance before he could raise his gun. Harry struck forward, hand grasping the pistol and twisting it backwards, breaking the defenders fingers. He then pushed contrary to the pivot of the man's arm, snapping it inwards, rendering it useless. In that same fluid motion, he thrashed his elbow in a sweeping motion, crashing head-on into the man's face, flooring him.

As he moved further through the cabin, stopping to search every compartment, another crew-member rushed him. Harry exploited the man's inexperienced use of momentum, driving his palm-heel into the man's nose at forty-five degrees. The cartilage speared up through his head, penetrating his cerebral cortex. The man twitched into a convulsive spasm before shrinking from Harry's path.

* * *

><p>'Now please forgive ole' cutter here, he's rather weathered in his old age.' He ran a finger along the knife, indicating the evident dullness of the blade.<p>

He plunged the knife forward suddenly, and roughly began to tear a hole in Nate's shirt, jabbing and cutting at his soft skin in the process. The blade was cold.

Nate's stomach and half of his chest now exposed, the man stood back with his thumb and index finger to his chin, mocking a ruminative countenance.

'I'm thinking we should remove your left breast first, what do you think little mouse?'

Nate remained in taciturn silence, his eyes wide and his lips twitching as he forced himself to not voice his surrender.

The man disproved with a pitiful 'tsk, tsk', before poking the knife-point into Nate's soft flesh. The bound man grimaced. As the blunt tip urged harder, still failing to break skin, Nate attempted to relax the muscle. Finally, the skin gave way to the piercing point, and he could feel it probe his flesh as the intruder twisted and stirred ever so slightly.

Nate's eyes clenched shut, his teeth grinding. The torturer breathed through a sickly exulted grin, the air whistling from his throat passage and through his predatory canines. He pressed the knife down, the blunt blade pushed agonizingly slow through his skin as it forcefully carved a path of crimson, like a bread-knife messily tackling a leg of tough meat.

The knife jaggedly tore his skin, ripping down his torso like a stubborn zipper. He cried out through clenched teeth, and threw his head back in blind agony. The rent marring his abdomen wept a viscous river of sickly crimson.

'Albern Torval!' He finally spat out.

Then the door crashed open.

* * *

><p>It didn't take long for Harry to comprehend what was occurring, the torturer stood to face Harry, moving to reveal Nate with a long weeping gash down his abdomen. Fear begot rage, and his fury came barreling into this usurper; this man that was threatening to take Nate from him.<p>

The torturer bore his blade, flurrying the knife in a crazed offense. Harry caught the man's wrist and attempted to pry the weapon from his hands, consequently cutting the membrane between his digits in the process. Harry drove a fist forward, hitting the torturer's cheekbone.

He evaded a diagonal swipe and caught his attacker's arm, twisting it into a lock. The knife fell from the torturer's grasp. Harry cupped the back of the man's skull and drove it down onto the surface of a large crate, the wood splintered under the impact.

The blow that struck Harry came unexpected, as the torturer clipped him in the jaw with his elbow. The man then drove his heel into Harry's abdomen, driving him back.

Nate could only watch.

The torturer closed in on the prostrate Harry, he lifted his rubber boot, ready to bring it down on Harry's skull. The defender procured the knife, which he managed to plunge through the sole of his attacker's boot; legless, he stumbled to the floor.

Harry scrambled to subdue the torturer. Pinning him, he relentlessly thrusted his closed fist into the man's head over and again.

As Nate struggled to call out a warning, Harry suffered a strike across his back, which sent splinters of wood scattering around him. He charged backwards in a frenzy, pitched between defense and offense, and landed heavily against his new attacker. The stumbled to the ground.

Harry then reached for the torturer, wrenched the blade from his impaled foot and lunged it up and around to lodge haltingly in the newcomer's chest. He prized it free, only to bring it down once more into his eye socket.

The torturer was on his feet then, limping to procure a metal bar. They paused in their stance, apprehensive. The bludgeon had the advantage of range and weight, but the blade had the honed edge, ready to fly through skin like a warm knife through butter.

He calculated his opponent's strategy. _First blow, narrowed in on the head: evade. Parry lower-velocity oscillating back-handed swing: jab temple with blade's hilt. Inflict incision across weapon-bearing arm, seize bludgeon with free-hand. Twist, strike head with bar. Finish with blade applied directly to forehead._

He executed his foresight with a flourish, blood painted the wall in a spatter of crimson, as if someone sickly had coughed their turmoil onto a canvas. The torturer stood stunned, eyes rolling back as if attempting to behold the hilt that protruded from his head. Blood flowed from his nasal cavity.

Harry fretted; taking up Nate's drooping head in his hands and pleading for him to stay lucid. The cut was deep, and it bled very slowly but copiously. Nate was pale and shivering, seeing him so vulnerable and ravaged left a pit in Harry's stomach. An acerbic pungency caught Harry's nose, and he realized it was the smell of urine. He untethered Nate's bindings.

'Nate c'mon mate, stay with me.' There was a quaver in his voice.

He spread his arms and the quivering Nate hugged an arm around Harry as he struggled to cradle the man. Harry carried Nate to a spare cabin, and gently laid him down upon a bed, wary of the man's wound.

'Mate, hang in there, I'm going to look for some first-aid.'

Harry frantically scrounged throughout the yacht, slamming drawers and emptying containers, cursing at just how many compartments the boat had.

* * *

><p>Nate cringed as the lace threaded through his skin. The knot caught and pulled at the laceration, the skin reconvening, each thread gradually bringing it to a close.<p>

He had given Nate painkillers, which now took their toll as he drifted off to sleep, arms left splayed above his head.

Harry beheld Nate's form before him, naked, save for his jeans, and sprawled. Completely exposed to the world. He collapsed further into himself, as he realized he was responsible for Nate's state.

Perched on the bedside, Harry arched his back to run his fingers through his hair, pressing his palms into his eye sockets, attempting to push in the tears. _I was so insistent._

Straightening, he leaned down onto Nate, taking him into an embrace, resting his head against the recumbent man's chest. He clenched his eyes shut, but could not suppress the tear that seeped through, it trailed over Nate's skin and disappeared into the absorbent mattress.

Agitated, he sat up again, and reassumed his previous position, cradling his forehead. He remained that way for two hours. The reverberation of Nate's faintly stertorous breathing became all there was, whistling in, flowing out, his thoughts centered on the rasping pattern; which is why its sudden cessation came as such an alarm, his pulse suddenly rising.

'Harry.' Nate's voice was livelier, yet Harry was only taken in by Nate's use of his first name.

'Feeling better mate?' Harry's relief at seeing Nate lucid was overwhelming.

Nate made to prop himself up, 'Yeah, just shock and some blood loss.' He still spoke lethargically.

'Careful, watch the stitches.'

Nate scrutinized the flawless crisscross thread-work, 'So you're a medic now too?'

'I know the basics, fortunately.' He gave a disheartened smile.

'Thanks Harry.'

_Harry again?_

* * *

><p>He had been crying, Nate could tell by the heavy bags hanging from Harry's bloodshot eyes, and he had heard him sniffle a moment before he had declared his being awake. Nate had never had anyone care for him so deeply, it was strangely profound. At that moment of seeing Harry so distraught, something had opened inside of him.<p>

'Nate,' Harry weakly said, voice cracking, 'I'm so sorry.'

Nate squeezed Harry's hand in reassurance. They met eyes. Nate hesitantly leaned forward.

He suddenly averted his eyes, looked at the wall, 'I care.' He then looked at Harry, not knowing whether he should be expecting something.

Harry slowly leaned towards Nate, pausing for Nate's confirmation.

In reply, Nate stooped inwards, one hand haltingly placing itself on Harry's thigh, and then moving off again. Their lips met lifelessly, mutually pausing in their advance, they traded breath. Harry continued, his mouth coming to life as he kissed Nate deeply.

Nate's hand returned, gingerly running down Harry's chest and stomach, eliciting a slight flinch from Harry as he traced over his tender welts. Harry brushed his fingers through Nate's hair, and they grew more feverish as their apprehension faded.

Moving onto the bed, Harry basked in his contact with Nate as they came together. They felt each other's warmth as they embraced. Bodies rubbing against one another, Harry smelt of brine, the sticky film moist on his skin. A bitter odor came from Nate's damp trousers.

The fervor of their kiss now pleaded to evolve, Harry set to work on Nate's zipper.

* * *

><p>He entered Harry, legs wrapped around him, feet interlocking. His thrust was slow, easing in and out with care. Arms thrown back, their bodies pulsed with raw ecstasy. Nate disconnected his lips from Harry's, his torso pivoting upright; he slid both of his hands down Harry's muscled stomach. He could only bring himself to let his hands glance over Harry's arousal.<p>

Nate stooped forward again, penetrating deeper, burying his length within Harry, who quietly gasped and grappled at the bed sheets. The moon gazed bright upon them through the window, the room crepuscular with the pale glow of pre-dawn.

Nate's thrust hastened, his rhythm breaking. Arched over, his forehead connected with Harry's, hair disheveled and sweaty. Nate's breathing halted as his passion came to a crescendo. When he shuddered out his strength in that final moment of rapture, he gasped as if pained, surprised and relieved all at once.

Still inside Harry, breathing laboriously, he didn't move. It was only now Harry realized Nate's wound had been weeping, his body painted red by droplets of Nate.

'You're bleeding.'

Nate pulled out from Harry and fell back against the mattress, lying abreast to the other man. Harry rolled towards Nate, who turned to share the embrace.

* * *

><p><em><strong>I've only just now gone back to read through the previous chapters and I apologize for the few errors that I am unable to correct. It astonishes me how I missed them in the first place. I hope you liked this chapter.<strong>_


	13. Chapter 13

Nate awoke. The other man laid fetal with his head against Nate's chest. Blanket pulled over them. His joints ached, his head pounded and his wound burned a furious itch.

As he made to stand, Harry was tugged from his sleep. Nate left the room after wriggling into his jeans, Harry didn't say a word.

He looked upon the dead that lay strewn throughout the cabins, the people that had fallen to Harry's rage. He felt as if everything had shattered, and now he walked in regret, alone in the aftermath.

_Am I alone?_

He remembered Harry again. And he remembered the night before. As he rounded back to the cabin, Harry was propped upright.

'How's it feel?' Harry indicated Nate's wound. The words somehow echoed.

Nate just stared. There was a sun in Harry's eyes. _It won't go away._

'We have to get going,' was all Nate could say.

* * *

><p>They had retrieved the dinghy and returned to their yacht, barely exchanging a word. As they looked back on the abandoned boat, it seemed to be frozen in time, lifeless. Ready to aimlessly drift away. Forever unmoored.<p>

Nate was at the helm, he hadn't spared Harry a glance as he emerged onto the top deck.

Harry worried at Nate's despondency. He walked up behind Nate and held him in an embrace as the other man gazed ahead of them; Harry pressed his cheek into the crook of Nate's neck.

They stood there as statues, blanketed in silence. Nate squirmed then, shrugging out of Harry's embrace, who stubbornly held on. Nate lifted an arm and shoved at Harry without meeting his eyes.

Harry submitted, letting himself be pushed away. His face wilted into an expression of dejection.

'What is it Nate?' Harry shrugged his arms out in a baffled gesture. 'You're killing me here.'

'Killing?' Nate turned to Harry for the first time, 'An apt choice of word.'

'It couldn't be helped Mate.'

'It didn't have to turn out the way it did, four men are dead; does that not mean anything to you?'

'Why should it?' Harry spat.

Nate stared, disgusted, 'How did you become so cold?'

Harry reeled at the gaze he received from Nate, it made him feel like a monster. 'It had to be done mate, there was no other way!'

'It could have been avoided, if you hadn't manipulated me into taking this fucking contract!'

Harry was at a loss for words. He finally spoke, 'I didn't want this, I'm sorry.'

'Think of the families that now lack a father because of you.'

_He's right. I am a monster, because I don't care. _'Nate. I thought I'd lost you.' His voice broke.

'Flynn, don't.'

_Flynn…_

Harry stared desperately at Nate, 'Last night-'

'Flynn, shut up, right now!' Tears welled in Nate's eye-lids.

'You called me by my name.'

There was silence.

'Don't say it meant nothing,' Harry was on the verge of breaking.

Nate finally spoke, 'When I was younger, my mother killed herself, and my father never so much as looked at me. When you said you care for me, you exploited that void I've always had. The fact that I had suffered blood-loss, I was on painkillers, and I was in shock, just made me all the more weaker. My judgment was impaired.'

'Don't say I mean nothing, mate.'

'What I'm feeling isn't real. It isn't healthy. I'm not like that.' Nate looked at Harry, 'I'm not like you.'

The life slipped from Harry's eyes. Losing all motivation to talk, he turned away and left.

* * *

><p>'So this is what I've comprehended of your methods,' Albern Torval began. 'After hacking into the Mora's emergency transmission channel, you sent the Mora general a false alarm regarding the integrity of his armory's security, anticipating he would lead you to said armory. When you successfully procured the key and located the store-house, you used the Mora's signature pistol-brands to kill the Avant tradesmen, on the same day of their trafficking. You left your gun at the massacre so to frame the Mora, and now the armistice has been broken. The Mora and Avant are now at war. Brilliant gentlemen.'<p>

Nate mused at how he made it sound like a flawless execution of strategy. 'Twenty-grand. I know your house has the wealth, so don't bother trying to barter with me.' There was a firm resolution to his voice, which brooked no argument.

'Very well,' Albern reluctantly conceded.

* * *

><p>Harry was driving, Nate in the passenger seat, preoccupied with a phone-call, which Harry assumed must have been their agent.<p>

When they arrived at their apartment, Nate finally snapped the phone shut.

Harry watched as Nate was packed his things into a travelling bag. Nate noticed the question in his eyes.

'That was John. He has a proposal that involves independent work.'

_Independent work?_ 'What?'

'This is where we go our separate ways Flynn.' Nate suddenly seemed relaxed, to Harry's dismay.

'No…' He didn't know what else to say.

'He's going to divide the pay, fifty-fifty. That means ten-thousand dollars for each of us.'

'I don't care about the money.'

Nate went about looking busy with his travel-case, not saying a word.

Harry walked from the room, his thoughts scattered. His face twitched as he tried to suppress tears. When he walked back into Nate's room, he was gone, along with all his belongings. Nothing remained but the hollow coo of wind caressing the window-pane.

When he opened the front door, he watched as a taxi pulled out from the curve, Nate sat in the back-seat, head forward, not sparing Harry a parting glance. The taxi rounded a corner and was gone.

When he walked back inside, he dropped to his knees, pulled at his hair, tears streamed down his face. But he made no sound.

All was still.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Seems interest in this fic is starting to dwindle. I think might discontinue it.<strong>_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Six Months Later.**_

What lies beneath the decipherable, ink stained pages? Is there an _apocrypha scripta_ amid the obscurity?

Chloe Frazer puzzled over the case of Harry Flynn. What had pushed such a beautiful creature into such a macabre existence?

Harry had killed; he had dispatched those who deserved death, and many more who didn't. It was impossible to see past his façade of affability, beyond to the unfeeling coldness.

What had come before? Is the callousness a protective shell, a layer among many? If you were to dig deeper, what would you find?

_What guarded sentiment is waiting to be unearthed?  
><em>

Somehow, she knew something shivered, forlorn and vulnerable, behind those dead eyes.

The trauma that would blunt the wits of most had sharpened his into an acute blade; the whetstone flew at him time and again, and he suffered the blows in a disciplined fashion. Letting it shape him, temper his soul. And he used this to his advantage.

Apathy was now his profession.

To stare down the barrel of his gun, and unflinchingly pull the trigger on an innocent, to bar off the inhibitions of conscience and receive the payoff offered to him after such a deed. To dehumanize, gaze upon his next contract as just that: a contract.

Chloe watched as Harry planted his tripod onto the hard surface of the concrete balcony, meticulously lining up his position with the window of a far building. Harry glanced at his clock, before mounting a sniper rifle on the stand.

One eye pressed against the scope's rim, he gauged his mark with cold scrutiny, training the sight's cross-hair on the man. One eye remained on the second-hand of his watch.

It clicked thrice past twelve, and Harry pulled the trigger.

The gun-fire was simultaneous with the Volkswagen's triggered exhaust back-fire on the street just below their position. Harry's timing proved flawless. _As always._

Harry turned and shot Chloe a devilish grin.

His face is the face of all that cannot be fathomed. _And he's looking you in the eye Chloe, but you'll never know what he's thinking. _

'All sweet?' She asked.

'All done, time to go.'

_A walking enigma._ He would give you a full, eye-reaching smile, and still manage to keep his true sentiments from surfacing.

Chloe looked down on the street, 'You're right, they're all just going by as if they heard nothing.'

'Our scheduled back-fire was loud enough to veil the sound of the gun. Did you doubt the integrity of my methods love?'

_He was cold as stone. Where others would have a heart, he had a gaping cavity that threatened to pull you in with his charm. But I trust him. _'Of course not.'_ And that is what I fear most._

Nobody truly knows Harry; amid the people who have met him, swirls a maelstrom of diverse interpretations.

_Not one of them accurate._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Well, I decided to continue on. <strong>_

_**I've made the decision to revise the preceding chapters, there will be a few changes made that won't impact on anything too much, but at least they will add consistency with these later chapters, which I wrote on a whim. In other words, I didn't have these recent events in mind when writing the first chapters, but I'm going back to make it all comprehensive with a few little adjustments. **_

_**Sorry, this was a short chapter, but you can expect an update soon, in any case. Thank you all for the encouragement. **_

_**I've been thinking of a song to attribute to the story, to add a bit of emotional depth. At the moment I've got my mind set on: **http : / / www . youtube . com / watch?v=8Cu5yi84ngs **(Remove the spaces)**_

_**The lyrics go:**_

_All the nights we tried and tried,_

_To find the starlight in your eyes._

_All the hours we cried and cried,_

_You lost the starlight in your eyes.**  
><strong>_


	15. Chapter 15

Chloe had been in the business longer than Harry, but she had never been able to cope with the contracts he had accepted. Rarely did she detect any remnants of his humanity; it was as if there was nothing there.

She watched him calmly open his eyes. She couldn't help but feel that same confusing sadness she felt whenever she'd look upon his face.

'Every time you wake up,' she said quietly, 'You seem so… gone.'

Harry didn't look away, and didn't respond.

_Where do you go, when the life slips from your eyes?_

They had been sleeping together for weeks, but Harry never seemed wholly interested. _You just couldn't care less either way, could you?_

She had fallen in love with him, and at times she would feel repelled, as if he was a soul better not touched. But she loved him.

'Harry,' She began, 'I've been thinking, we should find another life.' She put a hand to his face, and she couldn't foresee whether she would just feel cold cadaverous skin, or whether she would suddenly lose her hand; the uncertainty of touching a dark enigma. 'Away from here…'

Nothing appeared to come over him when he indifferently replied, 'Yeah, okay.'

* * *

><p>'I've found a new job opportunity.'<p>

'What's it involve, love?'

'It's…' She took his hand, smiled, 'It's different Harry.'

'Different?'

'The client is willing to pay _professional thieves_ to acquire an artifact.'

Chloe watched Harry sink into himself then.

'Harry…?' She squeezed his hand.

'What's the pay?'

'We get twice as much as our next assassination contract promises…'

He was still lost in thought.

'Harry?' She was reluctantly astute, 'Don't you want a change?'

'Do we know where the artifact is?' He asked absentmindedly.

'Yeah, a museum in Borneo. The only problem is: is it's a three-man job.'

He came to then, his expression enlivened by some thought that must have occurred to him, Chloe wondered if it came from the notion of a new life, but somehow she doubted that. _What's going on in your head Harry Flynn?_

'I have someone in mind…'

'Who?' She spoke quietly, mimicking his tone.

Harry didn't answer. 'Any details on this client?'

* * *

><p>Chloe slept soundly, lost in slumber.<p>

Harry laid awake, his eyes set on the ceiling.

_I won't stop… Until you feel what I feel._

* * *

><p><em><strong>http :  / www . youtube . com / watch?v=3Gmd7S9fxr4&feature**_


	16. Chapter 16

'Buy me a drink sailor?'

Nate started, eyes widening as he saw Harry. 'Harry Flynn?'

They embraced momentarily.

'What the hell are you doing here?'

'I'm looking for you mate?'

Nate failed to conceal his concern, 'Uh-oh, should I be flattered or worried?'

Harry procured his drink, and muttered, 'Maybe a bit of both.'

Nate laughed half-heartedly. He wondered at his own feeling, Harry seemed… different. But he wasn't sure if it was better or worse.

'C'mere,' Harry sat at a table, Nate followed.

The ocean lulled in the background, confluent with the sound of Harry's voice, he scratched at his scar, inflamed by memories from four years ago. _How can he just turn up like this, and act as if nothing ever happened? This is strange._

'I've got a job for us.'

'… Really?' Nate asked.

'A client is willing to part with a huge sum of cash if we acquire a certain object for him.'

'All right, I'm listening.'

'Now – you're not gonna like this…' Harry placed a pamphlet on the table before Nate.

'Oh, no, no you're out of your mind.' _This is really Harry? He's not bitter at all._

'Yeah, just hear me out for a sec.'

'Flynn, we both know two people who were killed trying to lift something out of that place.'

'And one who made it out.' Harry articulated.

'Yeah, barely.'

'I can't do this without you Drake.'

_Does he mean that?_ Nate had heard similar things from Harry before, but he never said it so lifelessly, as if he was too empty to _mean_ anything. _Does he still feel the same?_

'You're the only one who's cracked it, and you know better than anyone else it's a two person job.'

'No, three actually.'

'Right – and speak of the devil, here she comes now…'

She rounded the table, tossing Harry another drink.

'What?' _Chloe?_

'Chloe Frazer,' She shook Nate's hand, cutting him short.

'… Nate, Drake. Nathan Drake.' _Does he know?_

'Hello Harry,' She walked to Harry, circled him, hand gliding over his shoulders.

Harry just stared at Nate, smiling. 'Chloe here's one of the best drivers in the business. She'll take good care of us.'

'I bet,' Nate murmured. _What's going on?_

'Okay, so here's the plan...'

* * *

><p><em><strong>For those who aren't quite aware of the context: the first four chapters are set 4 years after the events from chapter 5 onwards. I did write that, but it may have been missed. <strong>_

_**At the moment I'm still leading into the events of Among Thieves, so everything you've read except for chapters 1 to 4 are set before Among Thieves. And in case you haven't picked up on this detail, the 'new job' Chloe found last chapter is the heist in Among Thieves, the job where Harry betrays Nate. When things become clear, you'll see that I'm very much staying true to the game's lore. At the moment I'm making the transistion from original material to in game material, I'm tying it all in.  
><strong>_

_**If you remember, the start of this chapter is pretty much the start of Among Thieves, therefor a lot of this dialogue isn't mine. This chapter leads into Chapter one. If you want a recap, you might as well re-read chapters 1 to 4.  
><strong>_

_**If a few things are still unclear, feel free to shoot me a message. **_


	17. Chapter 17

The door slowly creaked open.

Harry sat up from his daze, 'Drake?'

'Nate,' Nathan corrected, before closing in.

At boiling point, their suppressed affections for one another came together in feverous passion, lips mashing together. Hands groped and explored firm muscle contours, fingers knotted in thick hair. They rolled over on the bed, Nate was suspended over Harry, tongues dancing and hips grinding.

Suddenly the ceiling opened up, revealing a blue sky, the sun's luminosity leaking through the clouds. Harry took control, rolling until he was on top of Nate.

As he sat back to unbuckle his belt, his clothes liquefied and evanesced on a gentle wind. He beheld Nate, who had also been brushed naked by the cleansing wind, his member fully erect. Harry grasped the length and massaged, the skin of his hand sliding over the glistening end, eliciting subtle moans from Nate, who pulled Harry's head down to kiss him deeply.

Harry sat on his heels, Nate lying prostrate between his knees. Their members were adjacent, Harry took hold of both lengths and stroked whilst mocking the animation of intercourse, slowly pushing his pelvis back and forth.

Trees sprouted from the earth around them, creeping skywards in accelerated growth. Branches stretched out, smaller twigs crawling out to form intricate patterns, all reaching towards the sun.

Harry continued fondling the two, kneading at Nate's lavish scrotum as it protracted with the tensing of his gut. Their tongue's pushed warmly together.

Harry trailed down Nate's abdomen with soft, open kisses; his lips pressing against soft flesh. His mouth pursed over Nate's breast, and he tongued his navel. He took in Nate as much as was possible, if he could have melted into him, he would have.

He wanted to die with him, embraced in their final moments as the flames devoured them. Their ashes would mix, and then only the wind could take them.

He neared Nate's member then, as it prodded his neck. He kissed his end, and then took it in, his tongue running down the shaft. He heavily nodded his head back and forth, Nate's throbbing end rubbing against the roof of Harry's mouth.

He sat up then, moving forward to position himself between Nate. He lifted the man's legs and propped them onto his shoulders. Harry grasped himself and brushed his end between Nate's tender buttocks before sliding in. Nate's warm inside contracted around Harry's length.

Harry rubbed against the man's prostate, and he could see the blood rushing to Nate's face. The scent of memory lingered; he could smell brine and urine. The nostalgia brought a sense of foreboding, but Harry ignored it as he continued thrusting into Nate.

His tempo hastened, his hips slapping against Nate as he buried his member to the hilt with each thrust.

As his impending climax neared, his eyes closed, and his mouth opened; his member running through every texture of Nate's passage.

Before the smell of blood could register, he was hit by a wave of salt-water.

He started awake, sweating and breathing deeply. He had fallen asleep in his clothes, and had consequently wetted his jocks. He faced a moldy ceiling, bleak reality meeting him the very moment he opened his eyes.

Throwing his legs over the bed's side, he arched over and pulled at his hair.

_I can't do this anymore._

In his despair, a glimmer of hope shone through.

_What if he feels the same now… What if he's come to terms?_

Standing up, he left his room, neglecting the need to wash up. As he neared Nate's room, he lifted a hand to knock, but was brought to a halt by the sound of Chloe's voice coming from the room.

'… just like we said. We pull of the heist, find the ships and make off with the treasure.'

The following exchanges were incoherent, and he strained to hear through the door.

'… and you and I just… disappear.'

Harry broke. He pulled away, not wanting to hear the rest. When he arrived back at his room, he paced back and forth, breathing his despair. He collapsed forward against a wall, and crumbled down to his knees.

* * *

><p>http :  / www . youtube . com / watch?v=vE3bAwPBWHk


End file.
